The Call of Arcane Lore
by blackdragonsghost
Summary: Raistlin and Dalamar have been secret lovers for almost two years. Now, they are finally prepared to reveal their relationship - in the process of taking over all of creation, of course. The gods won't know what hit them. In the greatest battle of all time, what will become of Krynn? Slash.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Well, as promised, first Dragonlance fic. Slash, what a shock. I've heard good things about my slash capabilities in other fandoms, so I think this should go over well. Hopefully. (Oops. That reminds me, the next chapter of my HP fic is due. I'm such a bad dragon, neglecting that in favor of dreaming about my lovely hourglass mage... ahem. Obsessed fangirl here.) I'm resigned to waiting weeks or even months for reviews, because my first fandom was the Coldfire Trilogy, which is even more obscure than this. That said... PLEASE, REVIEW! For the sake of my sanity, feed the dragon! I **thrive** on feedback, and every time I get a review I squeal with joy for several minutes at least. _

_Warnings: Slash, some violence, scheming über-hot mages. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing connected in any way to Dragonlance. I merely have a slightly unhealthy obsession with Raistlin Majere, and a deep-rooted hatred of Crysania Tarinius. Only the feeble plot of this fic belongs to me: everything else, including the italicized quote of Dalamar talking to Tanis, belongs to Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman and/or Wizards of the Coast. Also, all elven phrases are in the Grey Company's Elven, and all credit is due to them for their hard work on the elven language. _

_A.N.2: The title of this fic was taken from the Nightwish song 'Wishmaster', which was actually written in part about Dragonlance, also referencing the Lord of the Rings. The full line is: "If you hear the call of arcane lore/Your world shall rest on Earth no more". Definitely on the money, as far as these two mages go. Soundtrack for this fic: Sleeping Sun by Nightwish, and Play Minstrel Play by Blackmore's Night._

_A.N.3: I hate Crysania for a very simple reason. She stole Raistlin from me. I can tolerate a few forms of Raistlin slash, especially Dalamar/Raistlin, simply because I'm a woman and wouldn't have a chance if Raistlin was gay (plus, NO ONE could compete with Dalamar). If Raistlin was going to fall in love with a woman, though... no way does Crysania deserve him. She's shallow, arrogant, and a total bitch. I, on the other hand, would make the perfect wife for an ambitious, power-hungry mage. I also have a very, **very **high IQ, so I think we'd get along just fine. (134, for anyone who cares. I think I could keep up with Raistlin, even when he starts in on quantum thaumaturgical physics.) I hereby dedicate this fic to every fangirl with a hopeless crush on Raistlin, for I am among their ranks. (Of course, being bi I kind of have a crush on Laurana too, but that's a story for another day.)_

_**The Call of Arcane Lore...**_

Sunset's crimson light bathed the land, transforming all it touched. On the barren plains, inhabited only by roving tribes of barbarians, it turned the swirling dust into a hazy scarlet shroud, cloaking all in its folds. In the forests of the elves, it glowed through the emerald leaves and recalled terrible memories of that time, not so long ago, when the forest was twisted by nightmares and the rivers flowed red. In the Lordcity of Palanthas, jewel of the north, it played across the cobbled streets and stained the marble buildings as if with blood.

A single building stood untouched by the sunset's vibrant glow; the Tower of High Sorcery, home and stronghold of the Master of Past and Present. No light could ever mar the obsidian blackness of that dark and twisted edifice; girdled by the horrific Shoikan Grove, it stood as a monument to all that was evil, all that sought the downfall of the light.

In the study near the top of the tower, a slender figure robed in purest black stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the sunset. Almond-shaped grey eyes narrowed slightly against the light, and a pale, slender hand reached up to brush back a lock of glossy black hair.

Any who saw Dalamar Argent at that moment would have assumed him to be relaxed and calm, enjoying the view of sunset and simply passing time. They would be correct on only one point; the dark elf was indeed passing time, but beneath a veneer of calmness he was taught as a bowstring. If his calculation were correct, his Shalafi would be returning soon, and that was cause enough to make any lesser mage grow pale with fear.

The name of Raistlin Majere had been legend for years now, ever since his pivotal role in the War of the Lance. Dalamar, though relatively obscure throughout most of Ansalon, was nearly as infamous as his Shalafi among the circles of magi - mostly _because_ of his Shalafi. No one wanted to get on the bad side of the only mage that Raistlin had considered good enough to be his apprentice. Some were aware of his role as a spy for the Conclave: most believed that the stories of his power were exaggerations, that no dark elf could be that strong. No one but Raistlin and Dalamar himself knew the truth, but that was all about to change.

Dalamar noticed that his hands were shaking and swore softly in Silvanesti. Turning from the window, he gave in to his nervous energy and began pacing the study, his silken robes swishing softly in the quiet. Tonight, the plans of three years would come to fruition: tonight, the world would learn that Raistlin Majere and Dalamar Argent were a force to be reckoned with.

According to the populace of Krynn, Raistlin was cold, heartless, and utterly without attachment. Dalamar was one of only a handful of people who had any inkling that this was not true, and the only person on Krynn who knew just _how_ untrue it was. For Dalamar Argent, exiled Silvanesti dark elf, had the dangerous honor of being Raistlin Majere's lover.

A faint smile flickered over the elf's handsome face as he thought of how that had come about. He had been assigned by the Conclave to act as a spy, reporting on Raistlin's activities: though such an assignment was close to a death sentence, Dalamar had accepted anyway. He had little to live for, and between his ambition and his long-standing fascination with the legendary human mage, he was willing to risk his life for a chance to study with Raistlin under any circumstances. The moment he arrived at the Tower, he knew that it wasn't going to be easy.

Dalamar had a reputation for being a ladies' man, having seduced countless beautiful women into his bed during his stay at the Tower of Wayreth. Few people, aside from his numerous conquests, were aware that he was equally predatory in his attitude toward his own gender. From the instant he set foot in the Palanthian Tower, Dalamar knew that he was falling hard for Raistlin. The gold-skinned human was unlike anyone Dalamar had ever met before - perhaps most notably in the fact that he seemed completely immune to the dark elf's charms. Intrigued by that resilience, and equally enchanted by the seductive fact that Raistlin was genuinely the most powerful mage on Krynn, Dalamar had never stood a chance of resisting.

Two years ago, Dalamar had decided that he could no longer live a lie; he could not keep feeding Raistlin's secrets to the Conclave. He had yet to tell them anything important, but they had begun pressuring him to get them critical information. He couldn't just tell the Conclave he was through spying for them, they might well kill him; instead, he did the only thing his lovestruck heart would allow. He confessed his crimes to Raistlin, despite his fear that should the human mage find out about Dalamar's feelings, he might well kill him just for that.

_That night, two years ago:_

_Raistlin was in his study, reading a thick, musty tome that he had discovered in the Tower library when he arrived. It was a chronicle of the history of dragons on Krynn - what mortals knew of it, anyway. He knew that it could prove critical to his backup plans, should his primary plan go awry, and so was studying it thoroughly. _

_There was a hesitant knock on the studying door, and Raistlin looked up, surprised. Dalamar knew better than to interrupt Raistlin's work unless it was very important, and Raistlin had not summoned him. Perhaps, the mage mused, the Conclave's plan was finally going to be set in motion, and the dark elf was here to begin the process. He did not think that Dalamar was aware that he knew nearly everything about the dark elf's assignment - including the fact that Dalamar was feeding steady reports to Ladonna. Raistlin supposed he would have to do something to put a stop to that soon, but he was putting it off; Dalamar was very pleasant company, and although he hated to admit it Raistlin was more than a little attracted to the dark elf. He had always made an effort to prevent himself from being seriously interested in anyone - sexual attraction clouded the judgement and had been the undoing of more than one historical conquerer - but somehow the Silvanesti had slithered past all his defenses and not only caught his attention, but won his admiration._

_He wasn't sure that Dalamar knew that, either._

_Shaking off his thoughts, he rested his slender fingers on the dry pages of the book. "Enter."_

_The door opened slowly, and Dalamar stepped in. He was pale, far paler than usual; while his skin was normally alabaster-white, in the firelight he now appeared sickly pale, almost greenish. His face was a taught mask, revealing nothing, yet in that very concealment showing his tension. His grey eyes were dark and veiled as he bowed, his voice also tense and carefully controlled. _

"_Forgive me for interrupting, Shalafi, but I - there is something I must discuss with you, and I fear it cannot wait, or I may not be alive to discuss it at all."_

_In spite of his efforts to remain impassive, Raistlin raised one eyebrow. Though he had his faults, Dalamar wasn't overly given to melodrama. Raistlin gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk at which he was seated._

"_In that case, sit down, apprentice. It must be serious if you feel your life is threatened, but I'm sure it can be dealt with."_

_Dalamar managed a smile, but it looked more like the grin of a skeleton. "Perhaps." he murmured, sinking into the chair and momentarily resting his head in his hands. "Perhaps I'm signing my own death warrant."_

_Both of Raistlin's eyebrows shot up that time. Signing his own death warrant? "Why don't you start at the beginning?" he suggested, as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. Dalamar drew a deep breath, then looked up and met Raistlin's eyes. _

"_A month before we met, I was approached by Ladonna. She knew that I had written to you, asking to become your apprentice, and she offered her support if - if I agreed to become a spy for the Conclave." Dalamar's voice nearly broke on the confession, and he looked toward the fireplace and hurried on, as though fearing that Raistlin might kill him on the spot. "I wasn't thinking clearly, and - she promised me that if I agreed, I would be the next head the Black Robes. I accepted her offer."_

_Dalamar paused for breath, then continued. "I honestly thought I could do it, that I could work it all out somehow, but I can't. Every day is torture now - I feel like I'm suffocating, constantly worried that you're going to find out what I'm doing. Worse, I didn't realize the loyalty that I would feel toward you, but it's there just the same. You're the most powerful mage ever to live, you don't let anything stand in your way - standing in front of the Conclave, all I can see is a bunch of meddling old fools who are trying to stop you out of jealousy."_

_For a moment, Dalamar's voice failed; he gulped and forged ahead, not even looking at Raistlin anymore, talking desperately. "Today I reported to the Conclave again. I haven't given them any really important information yet, nothing regarding your plans; I couldn't bring myself to go that far. Today, Ladonna said that - that the longer I stay here, the greater the risk that you'll find out, and that if that happens you might be able to get valuable information about the Conclave from me. She said that... if I didn't have anything solid to report soon, that they would have to consider that I have outlived my usefulness."_

_Finally he looked back at Raistlin, and the human could see the stark desperation in the elf's eyes. "If I don't come up with a plan soon, I'm dead. I can't go on like this, I can't survive when I'm being torn in two: I can't keep balancing my loyalties to you and to the Conclave. The Conclave's not going to help me out of this, I can never trust them again - I never thought I could in the first place. So, your move, Shalafi - turn me over to the Conclave, do whatever you want. My hand's played out."_

_Raistlin sat silently for a moment, just staring into his apprentice's desolate grey eyes. His face was inscrutable as always, but inside Raistlin's mind was churning. Granted, he knew about Dalamar's double loyalty - but he had had no idea of the magnitude of reward they have offered the young elf. Moreover, he had never dreamed that Dalamar would confess! Already his mind was racing, calculating ways this could be turned to his advantage. In seconds, he had evolved a full plan and determined to set it in motion. _

_He sat forward in the chair. The simple motion was enough to make Dalamar flinch, his silver-grey eyes widening in alarm. Raistlin waited a moment longer, then spoke in a steady, quiet voice. "I'm impressed, my apprentice. I didn't think you had this kind of courage."_

_Dalamar's eyes grew round as saucers. For a moment he sat silently, stunned. Then, hesitantly, he whispered, "You - you knew?"_

_Raistlin arched one eyebrow. "Oh, I knew that Ladonna had her claws in you - I didn't know the stakes though, I didn't expect that they'd offer you that great a reward. I suppose they feel threatened enough by me that they feel it's worth it. Or, more likely, they simply plan on killing you anyway, once you've done their dirty work for them."_

_Dalamar stared at him, dumbfounded. "But - if you knew - why didn't you say anything?"_

_Raistlin shrugged. "I didn't see the need. I knew you hadn't revealed anything important to them yet, and you are a more than adequate apprentice. I saw no reason to terminate your apprenticeship early. If and when you posed a serious threat... then I would have had to take action."_

_If anything, the elf grew a shade paler, swallowing hard and shifting in the chair. "And now?" he asked quietly, his voice strangely steady._

_Raistlin stared at him, weighing him, then he said softly, "That depends on you, apprentice."_

_Dalamar was really squirming now, as Raistlin's golden eyes continued to bore into him. "I sense there's something else you're not telling me. It is true that you cannot trust the Conclave, but they are less likely to succeed in killing you than I am. If survival was your sole concern, I do not think you would have made this confession. What other reason is there?"_

_Apparently, the strain had become too much for the normally placid elf, who leapt out of his chair as if he had been burned, retreating from Raistlin. "Shalafi, please, don't ask me that. I assure you, the reason is nothing for you to be worried about."_

_Again, Raistlin was surprised. He had expected either total honesty, or a clever attempt at evasion, not this plaintive request. He had assumed the elf still had some sort of ambitious scheme up his sleeve, but it did not appear so now. That left only reasons more... personal._

_For the first time, Raistlin seriously considered that his attraction to his apprentice might well be mutual. Certainly, he was not blind to the way Dalamar had flirted with him in the past - he simply hadn't attached any significance to it, considering the way the dark elf flirted with anything attractive on two legs. If Dalamar wasn't willing to betray him, even for a shot at being the head of the Black Robes, yet wouldn't tell him why... perhaps there was more behind that subtle flirting than Raistlin had suspected. _

_If so, that was welcome news indeed. For the first time in his life, Raistlin was seriously tempted to forget his self-imposed celibacy and see where this attraction would lead. Deciding it was time to take matters into his own hands, Raistlin rose and moved around the desk, herding his terrified apprentice back toward the arched windows. _

"_If it is of no concern to me, why are you so afraid, my apprentice?"_

_Dalamar was backing further away, looking deeply unsettled. He shook his head, eyes pleading. "Shalafi, I..." seeing the determination in Raistlin's eyes, he dropped his gaze and whispered his second, far more personal confession of the night. _

"_I'm in love with you."_

_Raistlin's own eyes widened slightly. The elf was in **love** with him? That was a bit more than he had expected. Still, hearing it, he felt a soft thrill run through him. Perhaps he had underestimated his own feelings as well. Though Raistlin was accustomed to being completely in control of himself and all events concerning him, Dalamar seemed to have an uncanny ability to throw him off balance. Time to return the favor._

_The elf was now backed against the stone wall of the study, almost pinned by Raistlin, though the human hadn't even touched him yet. In a swift movement, Raistlin reached out and caught Dalamar's chin in his hand, lifting his head so that their eyes met. _

_Dalamar's eyes burned like cold steel, shining with a welter of turbulent emotions. Fear, and dread, with a hint of anger at the Conclave, but predominantly desire. Seeing that look in his eyes, Raistlin let himself forget whatever carefully calculated statement he had been about to make, and simply kissed him. _

_For a moment, the elf seemed too stunned to react - then he responded. His lips moved against Raistlin's, his sleekly muscular body shifting forward to press against the human. Raistlin disregarded every reason he shouldn't be doing this, sliding his thin arms around his apprentice and pulling him closer. _

_Dalamar melted against him, slender fingers winding into Raistlin's white hair and pulling them closer still, drowning in the pleasure of their embrace..._

Dalamar dragged himself back to the present, smiling to himself at the strength of the memory. He wasn't sure just who had seduced who that night, but it didn't matter. In matters of magic, Raistlin was the teacher and he the student; in all else, they were now equals. He knew the honor that had been afforded him, and he was more grateful than he could ever put into words.

He had spent each night since then with his Shalafi, utterly faithful to his mentor. His days of seducing random acquaintances were well and truly over, and he didn't miss it one bit. His former girlfriend, Jenna, was more than a little irritated at him, but then she had no idea just why he had broken off his relationship with her. She assumed he was back to picking up girls at bars in the shadier parts of Palanthas.

Oh, how wrong she was.

The memories rose again in his mind, cascading through him in a blur of color and sensation. That night... that night he had found out what ecstasy really was. Lying with Raistlin in the ocean of black silk that was the mage's bed, feeling the burning heat in Raistlin's skin pressed against his own, finally feeling those slender, expert fingers on his body... nothing he had ever felt before would ever compare to being with Raistlin. Somehow, even the magic seemed a little less wondrous in comparison.

For all his inexperience, Raistlin was a very talented lover. His minute observation to detail let him memorize everything that pleased Dalamar, and he'd had the dark elf writhing in ecstasy in moments. With anyone else, Dalamar would have been embarrassed at how quickly he'd succumbed - and for letting the other lead. With Raistlin, though... he simply didn't care. As long as he had the right to call the human mage his lover, he would do anything to make him happy.

Now, tonight - tonight all their dreams would finally come true. Ever since Dalamar had confessed his feelings for Raistlin he had been feeding the Conclave false information, while secretly working side by side with Raistlin to bring his schemes to fruition. Tonight, Raistlin would return to the Tower and use the Cleric of Paladine, Crysania Tarinius, to open the portal to the Abyss. He had spent considerable time and effort convincing the cleric that he loved her, and it had paid off; she was completely enamored of him, and convinced that he was not truly evil. Dalamar smirked to himself. Oh, if only she knew the truth!

His smirk widened as he thought back to earlier that day, his conversation in the Great Library with Elistan and Tanis Half-Elven. They had both been in a panic when they learned what they _thought_ was the truth about Raistlin's plans. Dalamar remembered what he had said to Tanis:

"_Lady Crysania was captivated by Raistlin. And, if the truth be told, he was attracted to her, I believe. Who can tell with him? Ice water is too hot to run in __**his**__ veins."_

Dalamar shook his head, amused. Raistlin would have been delighted at his acting skills, if he had witnessed that scene. The mixture of dread and scorn in Dalamar's voice had been more than enough to convince Tanis and Elistan of his sincerity: it was hard to tell, but even Astinus had not looked suspicious. Of course, the historian was forbidden from intervening, so he could not have risked alerting the other by looking skeptical anyway. Thinking of his performance, and the lingering memories of his first night with Raistlin, Dalamar felt suddenly far more relaxed. Raistlin's plans included every possible eventuality; nothing could truly catch him off guard. Everything would work out.

Sitting down on a couch near the fireplace, Dalamar settled in to wait the arrival of his Shalafi.

~DL~DL~DL~DL~DL~

When the winds of magic had settled around them, the time-travelers opened their eyes to find themselves in Raistlin's study. It was clearly the present day; a cheerful fire was burning in the fireplace, the place was spotlessly neat, and through the window the welcoming lights of Palanthas were clearly visible. Crysania sighed in relief, looking up at Raistlin with adoration in her eyes.

"Paladine be praised - we made it! When do we open the portal?"

Raistlin was only half-listening. The moment the euphoria of spell-casting faded his thoughts had turned, inevitably, to Dalamar. Though it had started as simple sexual attraction, his feelings for the dark elf had deepened and bloomed into something perilously close to love. Pragmatic as ever, Raistlin had given up fighting the feelings; if he couldn't get rid of them, he might as well enjoy them. He had no doubt that his apprentice was lurking in the shadows nearby, enjoying the show. Remembering the question, he turned back to his companions: Caramon was looking rather downcast, clearly unhappy that his attempts to dissuade his brother had not worked, and Tasslehoff was already looking about with bright interest. Crysania, on the other hand, was wearing an expression that resembled outright worship. Repressing the urge to roll his eyes, Raistlin pointed at Tasslehoff.

"Touch nothing. I will not be responsible for whatever hideous creature you manage to turn yourself into." Turning from the rather startled kender, he looked back at Crysania. "Stay here, rest, and commune with your god. We will enter the portal soon, but there is something I must attend to first." Ignoring Caramon entirely, Raistlin whispered a transport spell - one that, unbeknownst to his companions, landed him squarely in the spacious bedroom he shared with Dalamar.

The elven mage had obviously been expecting him, because Raistlin had scarcely touched the ground before his lover's arms were around his neck and he was being kissed to within an inch of his life. Startled but most definitely pleased, he wrapped an arm around Dalamar's slender waist and returned his kisses with equal fervor. Their lips molded together, tongues dueling for dominance, a contact fueled by a mixture of lust and something that ran far, far deeper.

When Dalamar finally let him breathe, Raistlin drew back a little and smiled at him, drinking in the familiar sight of his lover's face as he murmured, "I must be getting predictable."

Dalamar chuckled, grey eyes sparkling wickedly. "Or perhaps I'm starting to pick up tricks from you." he purred, taking advantage of Raistlin's amusement to press another kiss on his mouth. Raistlin let himself indulge for a few moments more, then he pulled away, shaking his head ruefully.

"It's a wonder I ever manage to focus, with you around. How have things been progressing in my absence?"

Dalamar smirked. "I had a talk with Tanis Half-Elven and that useless fool Elistan earlier today. They are both fully convinced that you're actually attracted to Crysania, and that you plan on seducing her and keeping her for yourself."

Raistlin laughed aloud, something that rarely happened and was invariably enough to scare bystanders when it did. "You must have put on quite the performance - I wish I could have seen it."

"Indeed." Dalamar said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and pulling Raistlin down next to him. "I also managed to convince Half-Elven that I was having an affair with your sister." he murmured, trailing his fingers lightly down Raistlin's chest, relishing the familiar feeling of warmth that emanated from the frail-seeming human mage. Raistlin smirked.

"Believable enough. Kitiara would sleep with anything, so she would be more than happy to bed someone as handsome as you, despite your position as my apprentice." He tried half-heartedly to swat Dalamar's hands away as he spoke. "You do realize that we're planning on taking over the world later tonight, right?"

"So?" Dalamar said, grinning, as he tugged the other mage down to lie on the bed. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the metallic skin of the other mage's neck, trailing his lips up to Raistlin's ear before he whispered, "We've got hours, the cleric's busy praying and your brother's too stupid to be suspicious. The portal is supposed to be opened at midnight; don't tell me you'd rather spend that time poring over some dusty old book than... with me?"

Raistlin had to laugh again at the blatant suggestion in his lover's voice. Mirroring the other's wicked grin, he rolled them over and pinned Dalamar under him, straddling the lithe dark elf. "Well, when you put it like that..."

~DL~DL~DL~DL~DL~

Nearly three hours later, Crysania and Caramon both looked around when the study door opened and Raistlin stepped in, eyes gleaming.

"It's time."

Crysania rose to her feet instantly, her blue-grey eyes shining with religious fervor. Raistlin took a moment to study her, pretending to admire her, while really he was busy making a mental list of her shortcomings.

To start with, she was female. Raistlin had only had a crush on a girl once, a redhead from Solace named Miranda - that infatuation had been mostly based on the fact that every other young man in Solace also wanted her, and had only lasted a few days because he'd caught her screwing like a rabbit with his brother. Once he and Caramon had gotten out into the real world and started traveling, it hadn't taken long for Raistlin to realize he actually preferred men. It wasn't all that forbidden; most formalized modern religions condemned it as a sin, but the general public didn't usually care. The elves were especially casual towards homosexuality - it was fear of Raistlin's reaction, not shame, that had kept Dalamar from confessing sooner. During his days as a mercenary, Raistlin had accidentally let slip a comment about his preferences one night after a battle, when he'd had a bit too much wine at the victory celebration. Caramon had been utterly shocked; the big warrior still wasn't very worldly, and had been astonished at the idea his brother was gay. Deciding to mitigate the damage, Raistlin had told Caramon that he liked men and women both, and the warrior had apparently thought it through and decided that it was just another of Raistlin's little quirks. Raistlin wasn't all that sure of his attitude toward women at first - he suspected he was completely gay, but he wasn't positive - but his suspicions had been more than confirmed when he first came face-to-face with Takhisis. The Queen of Darkness had mocked him viciously for his tastes, and had somehow managed to wriggle into his head and find out another embarrassing fact that the mage had been striving to keep hidden; when Tanis had jealously thought that Raistlin was shooting admiring looks at Laurana, it was actually _Gilthanas_ that he'd been eyeing. At the time Raistlin prayed that Tanis hadn't figured that out; the half-elf rebelled against elven views at every opportunity, and probably would have been horrified to discover Raistlin was gay.

Gender aside, Crysania did fit his tastes fairly well. When they first met in the past and he saw her through non-cursed eyes, Raistlin had actually thought that she was moderately attractive; only now, fresh from Dalamar's arms, did the mage realize why. He had to school his features carefully to hide a sudden surge of amusement.

Crysania's skin was milky pale, her eyes a soft blue-grey, and her hair a glossy blue-black. Dalamar definitely fitted the bardic description of alabaster skin, his eyes shifted from a pale steely grey to the colour of storm clouds depending on his mood, and his hair was like distilled night. In nearly every way, Crysania was like a slightly less-breathtaking version of Dalamar in a female body. Raistlin shook his head mentally; he could already hear the cleric's traumatized screeches when she realized that he was in love with an elf who shared her general characteristics. A _male_ elf, at that. While the teachings of Paladine supported love in every form, the Palanthian nobility thought of homosexuality as a blight on the world, and Crysania would scream bloody murder if she knew the truth about Raistlin. He sincerely hoped to reveal that truth to her tonight.

Completely fooled by the false admiration in his eyes, Crysania beamed at him and moved past him out into the hall. Raistlin turned to lead the way up the stairs, aware of Caramon following close behind, watching him intently. Though he was concerned for Crysania's welfare, Caramon actually supported the cleric's relationship with Raistlin, hoping that she could 'save' his wayward brother. Now, however, he seemed just a tad suspicious - of course, he would never figure it out in time. Raistlin smirked inwardly. Caramon, too, would be in for a shock.

When they entered his study, Raistlin flicked a quick glance through the room; the corners and much of the right side of the room was lost in shadow, and he could detect no movement. Despite this, he knew full well that Dalamar was there; he could _feel_ his lover's presence, as only those truly in love can. He felt his skin tingle with excitement; this was their night. Nuitari was full tonight, and he could feel the dark god's power filling him, flowing through his veins. _Soon..._

With a gesture, he banished the curtains that framed the portal. The five dragonheads gleamed in the light of his staff, forever frozen in their silent hymn to the Dark Queen's triumph. A word of magic, and a soft glow suffused the portal, a strange shimmer beginning to stir within the archway. Raistlin gestured to Crysania.

Her eyes luminous with the light of her faith, Crysania moved to stand within the portal. From the shadows on the other side of the room, Dalamar watched scornfully as she began the prayer that would partially open the portal. She was beautiful, he conceded - in a washed-out, black-and-white manner. Moreover, he knew that Raistlin could not see her beauty; she aged and died before his enchanted eyes, whereas Dalamar did not. An elf still in the prime of his youth, his immortality kept him from aging at all before the gold-skinned mage's gaze, a blessing that both of them appreciated. Dalamar was constantly thankful that he had managed to bring even that small piece of normalcy and pleasure into the world of ashes and death that surrounded his Shalafi.

Dalamar watched as the portal opened at the cleric's touch, and listened in wonder and awe as Raistlin intoned the spells that finished the process. As the last command was pronounced and the final dragon's head breathed its magic into the archway, the portal opened at last; behind Crysania the landscape of the Abyss took shape, flat scarlet sand and dull crimson sky.

Crysania stepped away from the portal, her pale cheeks flushed with victory, and moved toward Raistlin. She caught hold of one of his hands, smiling up at him with pure adoration. "Nothing can stop us now, love."

The warmth in her eyes turned to confusion when, in a swift movement, Raistlin yanked his hand from hers and stepped past her toward the portal, turning back toward her a moment later with malicious triumph in his golden eyes.

"Correction. Nothing can stop me and my _true_ beloved now. You, on the other hand, have served your purpose, Revered Daughter."

Caramon let out a strangled noise of shock as Crysania gasped, her blue-grey eyes widening in deep hurt. "But - Raistlin! I thought..."

"You thought I was in love with you." Raistlin sneered, his mask melting away to reveal an expression of utter cruelty. Dalamar shivered in delight; it was this side of Raistlin that drew him like no other, the side that frightened most others away. Raistlin continued, the dispassionate tone of his voice only making the blows more painful. "In that, Revered Daughter, you have proved yourself an utter fool. Did you really think that I could ever love one such as you?"

Crysania actually staggered back a little at that, tears welling up in her shining eyes. Caramon started forward, fury lighting his chocolate brown eyes, but Raistlin made an impatient gestured and the warrior was bound in place, silenced by magic. Out of common sense, Raistlin did the same to Tasslehoff, who had already startled prattling questions. Raistlin then continued as though there had been no interruption, eyes glinting viciously. "If so, you were dreadfully mistaken, _my lady_. In fact, I don't think I can even begin to explain just how wrong you were. Perhaps... Dalamar, do you think you could help with that?"

Dalamar suppressed his laughter, but he didn't bother to hide his vicious smirk as he stepped forward out of the shadows and walked to stand next to Raistlin. Crysania spun to face him, her face contorting in horror.

"What - what are _you_ doing here?"

"Tch tch, such a dreadful lack of manners." Dalamar tutted, his silver eyes narrowing in malicious pleasure as he slipped an arm around Raistlin's slim waist and pulled the other mage close. Crysania's eyes widened, and her mouth fell open, but no sound emerged; she appeared to have been rendered speechless by shock and horror. Raistlin laughed coldly, a truly terrifying sound, and wrapped his own arm around Dalamar in return.

"Oh, dear. I do believe you've shattered her nice, rose-coloured bubble, _melamin_. Such a pity."

Caramon was still paralyzed and silenced, but his eyes betrayed his shock at Raistlin's tone. Neither Crysania nor the warrior spoke elven, and they had obviously missed the fact that Raistlin had addressed Dalamar as 'my love'. Before anyone could act, though, there came a crashing noise from below. Dalamar's smirk widened.

"Ah, that must be our guests. Right on time, as usual."

Raistlin smiled darkly. "Indeed. How kind of them to be so punctual."

Pounding footsteps approached, and the door burst open under the weight of two bodies. Tanis Half-Elven and Kitiara Uth-Matar fell into the room, closely followed by none other than Goldmoon. The Cleric of Mishakal was a surprise addition: both mages had thought she was at home rearing her and Riverwind's brats, but neither was dismayed. Her presence would not make a single bit of difference.

Kitiara was first back on her feet, and she froze, sword out and eyes wide. "Tanis, we have a problem!" she hissed swiftly, staring at the two mages and the dumbfounded cleric. Tanis scrambled to his feet and gaped, bewildered.

"Dalamar?" he spluttered, utterly confused. "What the hell?"

"Ah, Tanis, as quick on the uptake as always." Raistlin said with a smirk, tightening his hold on his lover. "You never did think things through, did you? After all these years, you still fell right into my trap. Well," he amended, glancing at the elf in his arms, "_Our _trap."

Dalamar laughed at the stunned look on the three newcomer's faces. "I think you've lost them, love."

"_LOVE?_"

The shriek that burst from Crysania's mouth was close to ear-shattering. Dalamar winced, his sensitive hearing suddenly a drawback, as several glass beakers on the table cracked slightly. Goldmoon, her blue eyes clouded with confusion, quickly moved to put her arm around the distraught cleric of Paladine. Tanis, belying Raistlin's assessment, made a remarkably quick recovery.

"Hold on - Dalamar, I thought you were with Kit?"

"WHAT?" Kitiara stared at Tanis, dumbfounded. "I don't sleep with _mages_!"

Dalamar was shaking his head, his expression pitying. "Honestly, Tanis, I'm amazed that you swallowed that story in the first place. Why in the world would I sleep with a slut like Kitiara when I have Raistlin?" The dark elf turned and pressed a loving, slightly exaggerated kiss on the human's jaw.

There was another screech from Crysania, and the dark-haired woman finally shook herself out of her shock enough to launch into a blistering tirade about sin and vulgarity. Shoulders shaking slightly with repressed laughter, Raistlin retaliated by turning his head and kissing Dalamar squarely on the mouth. He held the contact, and things got rather heated after a moment.

When they finally separated, they were greeted with chaos. Kitiara was staring at them with a kind of revolted fascination lighting her brown eyes, Tanis had clamped his hands over his face and was muttering repeatedly, "I did not see that, I did _not_ see that..." while Crysania was nearing hysteria and Goldmoon was trying to calm her. Just out of interest, Raistlin dissolved the spell on Caramon and Tasslehoff.

The kender immediately began jumping up and down, wildly excited. "Wow! Caramon, did you see that? All this time we thought Raistlin liked Crysania, and really he's in love with Dalamar! That's so sweet! We'll have to tell Tika she lost her bet that Raistlin and Crysania would be together; I guess she won't be very happy about that. Do you think she'll be mad enough to throw your armor at you again? Say, do you think Raistlin and Dalamar will be getting married?"

Caramon had been opening his mouth to make a comment when that last question slipped out of Tas's mouth, and the warrior choked on whatever he had meant to say. Raistlin watched in open amusement as his brother's face turned red, then purple, then rather green. After a moment of swallowing hard, Caramon said in a rather strangled voice, "I guess this means Tika won't be getting any nieces or nephews after all."

It was Dalamar's turn to choke. Raistlin just stared for a moment, then a slow smile curled his lips. "You never cease to amaze me, my brother."

Kitiara and Tanis were both starting forward now, eyes blazing and swords drawn, and Goldmoon was advancing while steadfastly denouncing their evil, perverted ways. Raistlin lifted an eyebrow, then spoke a simple command.

Silence fell once more, instantly. Raistlin shook his head. "Really, Goldmoon, I never thought of you as the prejudiced type. I suppose even I can be mistaken on occasion. Now, this is how events are going to proceed. Dalamar and I are entering the portal now, and we are going to defeat Takhisis and, essentially, take over the world. You are going to stand here and panic for a while, then you'll realize that you are defeated and go home to await the end of the world as you know it."

Dalamar smirked and added, "Oh, and kindly mention to Elistan that he really ought to screen his clerics for gullibility in the future - if he has a future."

Raistlin matched his smirk and kissed him swiftly. "Nice touch. Now, _mela en coiamin*,_ let's go take over the world, shall we?"

Dalamar smiled into his lover's eyes, completing oblivious to the frozen witnesses present. "Why not? They do say that love conquers all..."

Sharing a last look of triumph and love, the two mages stepped into the portal and vanished in a swirl of rainbow light...

...

...

_Heh heh, sorry about the cheesiness of that last bit there. I just couldn't resist. Besides, I like cheese. (gouda is my favorite, but edam is very nice too... damn! FOCUS!) In case anyone was wondering why the heck Goldmoon was there, the answer is 'because I felt like it'. I just thought someone needed to be there to restrain Crysania (Mwah hah hah!). Next chapter will be coming soon. _

_*Translates to 'love of my life'. _


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Well, it's about time I got this damn thing posted. Took me a while to write, and I had to keep up with my other works-in-progress, but I did finally get it done... 'course, it is rather hard for me NOT to daydream about Raistlin for any length of time. I still sort of like Gerald Tarrant better, but Raistlin is a very, **very** close second. Dalamar's pretty damn hot, too. _

_To the anonymous guest who reviewed: Wow! I rarely meet people with higher IQs than me, that's really cool! I'm both ecstatic and flattered that I actually have 'fans': when I started posting fics I thought for sure I'd get shot down. Before I started reading fanfiction I'd never heard of the slash phenomenon, yet now I don't read or write anything else (fanfiction-wise, that it). It's just so much better somehow... I think I'm officially addicted. That's why I started writing fanfics, because I needed more slash about my favorite pairings, so I decided to just write it myself. _

_Darkstar__: Thanks for the tip, I actually just got an account on deviantArt, there's a notice on my profile. It might take a while to get all my fics there, but eventually I'll post a version of this fic there - complete with the sex scenes I cut from Dalamar and Raistlin's little flashbacks. Wow, so I've actually made a convert? Sweet! Yeah, you don't get much hotter than Raistlin and Dalamar. I mean, they're already smoking hot on their own - put them together, and you get... well, I don't think they've invented a word for that level of hotness. _

_Sweet-Hearted Silver Ears__: Aww, so glad you like it! And it's a good thing you don't like Crysania, because she's __**not**__ going to come out on top in this fic. Lifelong blindness really would be a blessing compared to what I'm going to do to her. Mwah ha ha! _

_A.N.2: Chapter soundtrack is Battle Hymn by Faith and the Muse, Takhisis Dance by Dargaard (God I love that band for giving us 'Takhisis Dance' and 'Rise and Fall'!), and Banshee by the Blarney Rebel Band. Once again, all Elvish was created by the Grey Company. There's a lot of jumping around in time and location in this chapter, so I added headings to clarify what happens when and where. You'll see. _

The second that the two mages were gone, the spells were broken and chaos reclaimed the chamber. Crysania was in hysterics, Goldmoon nearly so: Caramon looked like he was going to be sick, Tasslehoff was talking a mile a minute, and Kitiara was ranting about treacherous mages. Tanis seemed to be the only sane person left in the room, and he shook his head in despair before shouting,

"_**QUIET!" **_

Silence finally fell. Tanis looked around at his stunned companions and sighed. "Alright, I know we're all rather... _surprised_ by Raistlin's little display here, but let's talk about this rationally. We need to figure out our next move, and this is not the way to go about it."

There was a short, tense silence. It was Caramon who broke it, his brown eyes dark and thoughtful. "Are we still trying to stop him?"

"ARE YOU INSANE?" Crysania screeched. "If anything, Caramon, he just _proved_ that he's beyond redemption! I could understand why he would have felt that evil was the only path open to him, but this... this _sickness_ is simply unforgivable!"

"Hey!" A flicker of anger crossed the warrior's face. "Don't you dare say that, _Lady_ Crysania." Somehow, he turned the title into an insult, something Raistlin had always excelled at but Caramon had never really managed before now. "I couldn't care less who he's in love with, I'm a _little_ more concerned with the possibility of him destroying the world!"

"That may be, but Raistlin is clearly not right in the head." Goldmoon insisted. Kitiara interrupted her.

"I don't believe Tanis meant what we're going to do about my brother's choice in lover. At the moment, it might be a better idea to focus on the whole taking-over-the-world bit."

"What exactly are we supposed to do about that?" Crysania snapped. Tanis sighed.

"This is out of our hands, at this point. Par-Salian was the one who dragged us into this mess in the first place, I suggest that we go back to him and ask what the hell he's planning on doing now. He must have a contingency plan - though I doubt he expected a triple-cross on Dalamar's part." Frustration flickered in half-elf's eyes, and he cursed. "I talked to that elf not two days ago, and he swore up and down that Raistlin was in love with Lady Crysania and that everything was going according to plan. How long has this been going on?"

Kitiara spoke reluctantly. "Since before you knew about his ambitions at all, Tanis. I talked to Raistlin a month ago, and I could tell he was faking his feelings for Lady Crysania."

Crysania looked horrified. "And you didn't see fit to tell me?"

"We... had a deal." Kitiara admitted. "I was to make it look like I thought he was serious by sending Soth after you, and in return, once he defeats Takhisis he'll give me sole control of the dragonarmies and let me lead the campaign to subjugate Krynn. I wasn't all that worried about him destroying the world - truthfully, I didn't think he'd get this far. I only cut a deal with him to hedge my bets, and because I wasn't losing anything in the process. I sure as hell didn't know Dalamar was throwing my name around as camouflage."

"Just great." Tanis said through gritted teeth. "Caramon, please, tell me you're acting unsurprised because you just automatically accept anything Raistlin does, and not because you knew about this."

Caramon looked guilty. "Well, actually... see, Raist doesn't usually drink, but after the siege of Hope's End there was a sort of celebration because we won. Raist drank a lot, and... well, he might have said something..."

Tanis groaned. "Just lovely. And I suppose once he sobered up, he was smart enough to tell you to keep your mouth shut. Fantastic." He shook his head, wishing he could go back to the simple days when the most he had to worry about was being ostracized by every elf in Qualinesti. "Alright. Let's go find Par-Salian. He started this mess: he'd damn well better have a plan for finishing it."

**At the dark reflection of Neraka, in the Abyss...**

"_You think you can defeat me?"_ Takhisis roared, cackling madly as she reared upward, her leathery wings blotting out the crimson sky. Her five heads danced and swayed, almost hypnotic in their constant movement, her eyes ablaze with hatred and malice. _"You are nothing! You may be the Master of Past and Present, but no mortal can face me alone!"_

Raistlin stood before the Dark Queen herself, but he felt no fear. The battle had raged for some time, fierce and unrelenting: he was exhausted and his black robes were damp with blood, but his golden eyes shone with resolve as his mouth twisted in a mocking sneer. "You believe I am unaided, Takhisis, but in truth it is you who stand alone. You have a weakness, _my Queen_, a weakness that Fistandantilus shared. You won't let anyone close. That is why Huma defeated you, all those years ago - and that is why you shall be defeated here today. You scorn love as a weakness, yet my love has made me so much stronger than I was before."

"_You?"_ Takhisis scoffed. _"Little archmage, do you think me so gullible? You, who have scorned the attentions of all who would win your admiration - who could you possibly love?"_

"Me."

The spell struck Takhisis hard from the side, snaking beneath her shields: the five-headed dragon was flung back, shrieking as the fiery bolt of energy scorched her multihued scales. Dalamar emerged from the shadows that had cloaked him, sparkles of magic dancing on his slender fingers as he moved to take his place at Raistlin's side. The gold-skinned mage smiled at his lover.

"I scorned only the unworthy, Takhisis. How could I turn aside _a'mael en maranweamin?_"

The Queen of Darkness hissed, her eyes burning as she snarled furiously. _"__**You**__! Oh, yes, I remember you... the arrogant little Dark Elf who dared defy me. My son was ever so proud of you, standing up to me like that - we'll see how proud he is when you are naught but ashes!"_

A bolt of searing dark power erupted from the blue dragon's head, streaking toward the two mages: however, it rebounded and exploded in midair, repelled from the mages by some unseen force. Raistlin smiled darkly.

"You still don't understand, do you, Takhisis? You have no comprehension of love - and thus, it is the one power you cannot overcome." Raistlin reached out to his lover and drew him close: Dalamar lifted his hand and twined his fingers through Raistlin's, joining their hands as the human continued, his voice ringing with growing power. "I will never make your mistakes, Takhisis. I will defeat you, and I will destroy you - and I will keep Dalamar at my side forever, to remind me of how I won."

Both mages summoned their power: a blaze of golden fire welled from their linked hands and blasted forward, engulfing the Dragonqueen. Takhisis reared back, screaming in agony as the golden flames danced over her scales, the magical fire penetrating her thickly armored hide. _"NO! I will not be defeated like this!"_

"Then destroy us - if you can." Dalamar taunted, his silver eyes alight with the ecstasy of the magic. He had never dreamed that anything could feel like this: standing at his lover's side, wielding the magic in perfect harmony, their spirits joined as one... it was thrilling beyond belief, and he could almost taste their impending victory. "Follow us back to Krynn, face us on our terms - unless, of course, you're afraid..."

"_I AM NOT AFRAID!" _Takhisis roared, the ground shaking at her furious roar. _"I AM TAKHISIS, QUEEN OF DARKNESS! I WAS BORN WITH THE WORLD, AND I SHALL NOT DIE UNTIL THE WORLD, TOO, PERISHES! I WILL DESTROY YOU, AND I WILL CRUSH YOUR PATHETIC DREAMS INTO DUST!"_

"Time to go, love." Raistlin murmured, his eyes glittering with the same exhilaration that coursed through Dalamar as they willed themselves to the portal, preparing to lead the Queen of Darkness into the world of Krynn.

**Moments earlier, in the Great Library of Palanthas...**

"_HE_ _**WHAT?**_"

Par-Salian leaped from his chair as though scalded, his face blanching as white as his robes. It was Justarius who had bellowed: the mage was standing rigid, his face hard as stone but his eyes absolutely blazing, his red robes swirling as the very air stirred from the force of his anger. Tanis quailed.

"Dalamar betrayed us." he repeated, hoping fervently that Ladonna might be able to calm the other two mages. "He was working for Raistlin the whole time. Raistlin was faking his attraction to Lady Crysania all along, he and Dalamar have been lovers for - well, we don't know how long, but several months at least. Kit was in on it, partially: she knew the attack on Crysania was a set-up, but she didn't know about Dalamar. We tried to stop them going through the portal, but... we couldn't. We didn't know what to do, so we came here."

Ladonna whirled on Par-Salian, her face pale with fury. "I _told_ you, you incompetent old fool! I warned you the elf was compromised, but you just wouldn't listen! You were so damn sure that Dalamar was too strong to be corrupted, too smart to fall for Raistlin's lies: now look where our faith has gotten us!"

"Not now, Ladonna!" Justarius barked, his expression thunderous. "We can apportion blame later! Right now, we must travel to Godshome immediately! That's where Raistlin and Dalamar will go to fight Takhisis, and that is where we must go to stop them."

Par-Salian looked up, fresh determination in his eyes. "Tanis, I want you and your friends to return to the Tower. Dalamar and Raistlin will have to come back through the portal before they can journey to Godshome: you need to intercept them there, and slow them down as much as you can. If you cannot stop them we will be waiting at Godshome to ambush them, but I pray that you can make them see reason. If Raistlin tries to absorb all of Takhisis's power, if he is not torn apart then he will become more powerful than any god has ever been. He could destroy the world on a whim, and no one would be able to stop him. The conflict between him and the other gods would surely destroy Krynn: we cannot allow that to happen!"

Tanis was already starting nod when Caramon spoke, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. "And that's absolutely certain, is it? Or are you just mostly sure? Like when you were _mostly sure_ that Raist wouldn't get hurt in the Test?"

The warrior stepped forward, his brown eyes hard as he glared at the shocked mages. Tanis caught his arm, though, and held him back. "Caramon, not now. Even I can see that what they're saying is true. We can worry about past misdeeds later: right now, we have to stop Raistlin!"

At that moment, a near-deafening thundercrack echoed over Palanthas. A tremor raced through the ground, causing the stone underfoot to tremble ominously. Astinus looked up from his tomes, his normally expressionless face grave as he gazed toward the heavens.

His voice was low and grim. "So it begins..."

**Four months ago, in the Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas...**

_Dalamar lay contentedly in his lover's arms, basking in the warmth that the human's body radiated. Elves were rather cold-blooded compared to humans, and Raistlin had an unnaturally high body temperature: whenever they were in close proximity Dalamar wanted to curl up like a cat and just soak in that delicious warmth. Tonight was a rare opportunity to do so - Raistlin didn't have any part of the Plan that needed tweaking at the moment, and Dalamar didn't have to report to the Conclave until the next day. The dark elf had no intention of leaving his lover's arms until the next morning at the earliest. _

_He felt Raistlin stir slightly, and sensed the human's smile as slender golden fingers carded gently through his jet-black hair. "You're purring again, love."_

"_I am?" Dalamar said, startled, as he lifted his head to meet Raistlin's gaze. The human mage smirked, eyes glinting as he nodded slightly. Dalamar paused - and as Raistlin ran his hand through the elf's hair again, a strident purr vibrated up out of Dalamar's throat._

_Dalamar flushed slightly, but smirked nonetheless. "That's entirely your fault, you know. My people only do that when we're **extremely** happy: it's not my fault that you make me so happy just by being near me."_

_Raistlin smiled and drew his lover back down against him. "Mmm. In that case, it's your fault that I haven't been able to get a full day's work done for the last two weeks, because you keep distracting me with those big grey eyes."_

_Dalamar chuckled and burrowed into Raistlin's arms, smiling in absolute bliss. "Fair enough, _melamin_." They were both silent a moment, but even now Dalamar could feel a nagging though eating at the back of his mind like some parasitic worm, polluting his happiness. He tried to push it away, determined that nothing would interfere tonight - then Raistlin spoke again._

"_You might as well tell me what's weighing on your mind, Dalamar, I can practically hear you thinking."_

_Dalamar sighed. "I never could hide anything from you, could I?" he murmured affectionately. He sighed again then pushed himself up on one elbow, looking into his lover's molten gold eyes. "The last time I reported to the Conclave, something Par-Salian said... unsettled me a little. I'm sure that if it is a real danger you've already thought of it, I just... it's been bothering me, no matter what I do."_

_Raistlin ran a soothing hand along Dalamar's jawline and up the side of his face, tracing the edge of his pointed ear. The elf relaxed involuntarily, sighing in pleasure: his ears were extremely sensitive, and the mage's expert touch never failed to make him melt. Raistlin's voice was low and gentle. "What did he say?"_

_Dalamar exhaled softly, leaning into Raistlin's touch. "He said that if you defeated Takhisis and absorbed her power on top of your own, that there was a chance the overload might tear you apart. He also said that even if you managed to control it... that you would become too powerful. That when the other gods challenged you and you fought them, that your strength would destroy Krynn."_

_Raistlin was silent a moment, then he said quietly, "I'm amazed he realized that. He's right, of course."_

_Dalamar froze, his eyes flying open and fixing on Raistlin, shocked. "You - you mean that really could happen? Then... why..."_

"_It's quite simple, love." Raistlin said softly, still gently massaging Dalamar's ultra-sensitive ears. "I don't intend to keep all the power for myself."_

_For a moment, distracted by a mixture of pleasure and anxiety, Dalamar didn't quite process his lover's statement. Then the implications hit him, and he nearly stopped breathing, his eyes growing huge as he stared at the other mage._

"_Raistlin?" His voice was almost inaudible. "You - you can't mean -"_

"_Of course I do, love." Raistlin caught hold of Dalamar's wrists and tugged him down, so that they were lying face-to-face once more. "You didn't really think that I would become a god and simply leave you behind, did you? Takhisis has more than enough power for us to share, love. Then, once we have defeated the other gods... then we can rule the world together."_

_Dalamar stared at him for a long moment, speechless with awe, before he managed to whisper, "You would do that for me? You... you would let me join you?"_

"_Of course, Dalamar, _mela en coiamin_. I wouldn't want to spend eternity without you." Raistlin murmured, drawing his lover into a dizzyingly heartfelt kiss. Dalamar started purring again, sighing blissfully into the kiss as he wrapped his arms tightly around his lover's slender frame. The dark elf was deeply touched by Raistlin's offer: no one had ever cared enough about him to give him the time of day, much less grant him a chance to become a god. Whatever fools accused Raistlin of being incapable of love clearly had no comprehension of the mage's true nature. _

_Raistlin drew back slightly, running his fingers gently through Dalamar's dark hair as he murmured, "I will never leave you behind, my love. No matter what happens, I will never leave you. Remember that."_

_Dalamar nodded, tears shimmering in his silver-grey eyes as he clasped his lover's hand tightly. "And I will never betray you, Raistlin. Not for anything in the world."_

_The two lovers sealed their pledge that night, bound together by the most solemn oaths that any mortal could make. And though they did not know the extent of their peril, the gods trembled that night, knowing that for all the tales of the strength of the light, a bond forged in darkness could be infinitely stronger. After all, what could threaten true love born out of shadows and death, the very banes of most lovers? Not even the powers of the gods themselves could rend such commitments apart, so long as the lovers held true to their vows..._

**Present Day, the Lordcity of Palanthas, just outside the Shoikan Grove...**

At the edge of the Shoikan Grove, Tanis and the others were forced to pause as Goldmoon and Crysania worked together to forge a safe passage through the cursed trees. The skies were thick with fast-darkening stormclouds, jagged bolts of lightning flashing here and there: the ground shifted almost continuously, heaving and groaning. Before leaving for Godshome, the mages had explained that the disruption was the result of the tremendous magic currently at work in the world: if Takhisis and Raistlin continued their battle on Krynn, the upheaval would become a thousand times worse. Just the battle itself would be a second Cataclysm, never mind the fallout. Tanis sincerely hoped it never came to that.

At the moment, the half-elf was keeping a sharp eye on his cohorts: the clerics and kender were no concern, but Kitiara and Caramon were another matter. Kit was a true snake in the grass, always working some angle or another, and Caramon... there was a look in the warrior's brown eyes that sent prickles of unease down Tanis's spine. The warrior had been surprising vocal in his defense of his brother's lover - and there was no question that he had grown up during his sojourn in the past. He now exhibited a confidence and independence that Tanis had never seen from him before: no more was he simply Raistlin's puppet. Caramon Majere had finally grown into a man, and Tanis was no longer certain that he knew his friend well enough to be sure of his intentions. This was a Caramon that he had barely glimpsed, and it was most certainly not the Caramon that had followed Raistlin like an adoring puppy all those years.

Meanwhile, Caramon himself was thinking hard. He wasn't really as stupid as people liked to think: it just took him a while to arrive at any conclusion. The conclusions he did arrive at, however, were often very good ones. Right now he was turning over every bit of information he possessed about the current situation, and trying to arrive at a reasonable course of action.

He was dwelling in particular on the look Raistlin had given Dalamar, during those last moments before the mages entered the portal. The young mage's expression, the glow in his golden eyes... Caramon had never seen that look on Raistlin's face before, but he knew what it was. What it had to be.

Raistlin was in truly in love with Dalamar.

Caramon had seen his brother suffering from a passing infatuation. He'd witnessed it first-hand with Miranda, though he hadn't known that was what it was at the time. He'd seen Raistlin desire someone, without emotional attachment: he'd seen that in Mereklar, when the mage had been under the spell of the Lady Shavas. He'd seen Raistlin faking love - hell, he'd been treated to a three-month show of that, ending just hours ago. All of that, though, paled in comparison to the look in Raistlin's eyes when he turned to Dalamar.

Though he had always fought against admitting it, Caramon had been among those who believed Raistlin more or less incapable of normal human emotion. The devotion, the passion in his eyes when he'd smiled at the elven mage... that shattered all of Caramon's remaining illusions. Raistlin couldn't have faked that depth of emotion, it just wasn't possible.

So, Raistlin genuinely loved Dalamar. From that brief interaction they'd witnessed, Caramon thought it was safe to say that the dark elf felt the same way about Raistlin. That left only the issue of Raistlin's ambitions for godhood, because there was no way Caramon would ever willingly interfere with his brother's happiness.

Were the mages right about the risk to Krynn? Would it really be so bad if Raistlin succeeded? Did Caramon really have a right to interfere with the one thing his brother had devoted his life to? The warrior was seriously beginning to question what he had been told. Despite his brother's chosen vocation Caramon had never really lost his innate distrust of mages in general, and he had no reason to like or trust Par-Salian in particular. Indeed, after the events of the Test, he had every reason _not_ to trust the White Robe. Raistlin would never willingly destroy Krynn, so he obviously believed he'd found a way to avert the disaster the Conclave described: who did Caramon trust more, Par-Salian or Raistlin?

Raistlin, without question.

In that moment, as the earth underneath them rolled and shuddered and the skies overhead roiled with darkness, Caramon Majere made his choice. He would trust his brother, one last time: not because he always had, or because he was expected to. This time, he would trust Raistlin because he believed in the mage, because his gut told him that the Conclave had lied. And because when it came right down to it, when all was said and done, he and Raistlin were brothers. Brothers never turned on each other, no matter what the world did to them.

Tanis was watching from the corner of his eye, and he saw when Caramon lifted his head suddenly, brown eyes now blazing with conviction. He felt a chill ripple down his spine: he'd never seen the warrior look so determined before. He turned, careful not to let his unease show on his face.

"Caramon? Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Caramon said firmly, his expression calm but fierce. "This. This whole thing is wrong."

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Kitiara was the first to catch the implications, and she stared at her half-brother in amazement. "What are you talking about, Caramon?"

The warrior gestured toward the Tower. "Why the hell are we doing this? Why are we taking Par-Salian's word over Raist's? Think about it for a minute. If Raist wins against Takhisis, then Par-Salian, Justarius, and Ladonna are all going to be out of a job, and fast. You know what mages in general are like: they'd do anything to save their own skins! How do we know that Par-Salian isn't just telling us whatever it takes to make us stop Raist?"

Crysania stepped forward, her grey eyes hard. "We can't take that chance, Caramon. Your brother's more blinded by power-lust than any of the others: who can say how far he'd go?"

"But that's just the point: if what Par-Salian says is true, then even if he wins Raist gets nothing!" Caramon argued. "You can't honestly believe that Raist wouldn't know about the risk, if this supposed danger was real. If there really was a chance of Krynn being destroyed, Raist would know, and he would have planned for that. I know my brother, Lady Crysania: he may be ambitious, but he's anything but blind."

"That's actually a good point." Kitiara said thoughtfully. "You might be on to something here, little brother. That _doesn't_ sound much like Raistlin, does it?"

"It doesn't matter." Goldmoon said firmly. "Either way, we cannot allow Raistlin to become a god! Think of the damage he could do to Krynn! Look at how we've suffered at Takhisis's hands: Raistlin could be infinitely worse. We cannot take the risk."

Caramon's eyes hardened, and Tanis knew with a sudden stab of fear what the warrior was going to say, even before he spoke. "I'm not going to go through with this, Goldmoon. You do what you feel you have to, but I'm going to do what I feel _I _have to do, and I don't think it's my place to try and stop Raist. Maybe you've forgotten, or maybe you don't want to remember, but he's spent his whole life just trying to make a place for himself in the world. I got lucky: I have Tika, and lots of friends, and a good life in Solace. Raist never had any of that, and I spent too many years being jealous of him for being the smart one. If this is what he wants, then I'm not going to stop him."

Stunned silence reigned, punctuated by a growl of thunder as another blinding blue-white bolt flashed across the sky. Even Tas was momentarily speechless. Surprisingly, it was Kitiara who spoke first.

"I know I've called you a fool enough times over the years, Caramon, but I was obviously wrong. I don't think I've ever heard you say something so well thought-out - or so brilliant. And, much as I hate to say it... I have to agree."

"You too?" Crysania exclaimed, paling. Then her eyes flashed and she drew herself up, her expression hardening like the marble she so resembled. "So be it. You two back out if you want. We'll finish this without you."

Caramon turned to Tanis, his gaze appealing. "Tanis, don't do this. You haven't got a chance against Raist, you must know that. Besides, you _owe _him: don't you remember in Neraka, when you killed Ariakas? If Raist hadn't destroyed his shields you never would have managed it. And no matter what Par-Salian says, I can't believe that Raist could ever be worse than Takhisis."

Tanis froze. Caramon made a damn good point: if it wasn't for Raistlin, Tanis himself wouldn't be standing here today. Yet it went against everything the half-elf stood for to back down now: though he had started out as the most reluctant of heroes, he could hardly bring himself to turn away when the world was in danger, then or now. Even as he thought that, though, another - rather more disconcerting - thought crept into his mind. It was entirely possible that Par-Salian knew that, and was deliberately manipulating Tanis's honor to force him into conflict with Raistlin. What if Caramon was right? What if Tanis was walking into the biggest trap of his life?

Sensing his hesitation, Kitiara pounced. "Tanis, think about it. Par-Salian is a manipulative old bastard, we know that. Ladonna must be even worse, she's head of the Black Robes for heaven's sake. Neither of those two would have qualms about tricking us into fighting their battles for them. That only leaves Justarius. Have you seen the way he's acting? It's like he's furious with the other two, but refusing to say anything in front of us. Maybe he knows, but is too scared to tell us - or maybe he only suspects, so he can't say anything yet. Gods know, though, he has no reason to like Dalamar - the elf used to be in a relationship with Justarius's daughter Jenna, but he left her about the same time he apprenticed with Raistlin. Maybe he's cooperating to get revenge. And I don't know about you, Tanis, but if Par-Salian _is_ lying and Raistlin wins anyway, I really don't want to be on the losing team. My brother has a vindictive streak that could put Zeboim to shame, and I'd rather not be on the wrong side of him if he does become a god. Do you really want to risk that?"

For the first time in several years, Tanis felt utterly lost. He was vastly overwhelmed and out of his depth, outranked and outgunned and more than a little scared. The fate of the world might well be resting on his shoulders once again, and this time Raistlin was on the opposite side of the battlefield. For all their differences, Tanis had always been glad to have the mage as an ally: contemplating what he might do as an enemy was well and truly terrifying.

Goldmoon was glaring at him. "You had better not be considering this madness, Tanis. Surely, _you_ must know better."

Another tremor, much more pronounced than the others, rocked through the city. Blood-curdling shrieks rose from the creature within the Grove, as the Tower's guardians reacted to the raw magic now filling the air. Tanis could almost feel it dancing on his skin, and it only heightened his anxiety. What the hell was he supposed to do? He forced himself to draw a deep breath. _If you can't trust anyone else, trust your own instincts._

What were his instincts telling him? After a moment's consideration, Tanis knew. His instincts were telling him that there was indeed danger in this situation, but that it was not necessarily coming from Raistlin. Par-Salian and his cohorts might well be the true danger here. Most of all, his instincts were telling him that opposing Raistlin now was a ticket to an early and extraordinarily painful death.

_What would Laurana say?_

Tanis's wife was one of the very few people who seemed to see beyond the facade of cynical cruelty that Raistlin perpetually shrouded himself in. She had always told Tanis not to judge Raistlin too harshly, that there were layers to the mage that no one bothered to delve into. For a time, Tanis had even worried that Raistlin might end up being his competition for Laurana's affections: the two had become all too close for Tanis's comfort during their journey. Laurana had assured him, though, that her friendship with Raistlin was based entirely on mutual understanding, not any sort of romantic interest. Tanis hadn't quite understood that at the time - hell, he still wasn't sure he did - but he understood one thing. Laurana would have approved of giving the mage the benefit of the doubt.

Firming his resolve, Tanis nodded to Caramon. "You're right. Regardless of what the Conclave said, we all owe Raistlin a hell of a lot. We have to give him a chance."

Caramon's smile was near blinding. Both clerics looked horrified: Crysania's grey eyes narrowed coldly, and she turned to Goldmoon.

"These idiots have obviously fallen for Raistlin's act. You and I will have to deal with this on our own."

"Just as well, perhaps." Goldmoon said, looking at Tanis and Caramon with an expression of mingled distaste and severe disappointment. Without another word, the two priestesses grasped their clerical medallions and set out into the darkness of the Shoikan Grove, small circles of light surrounding them to hold back the deadly guardians of the trees.

The taut silence was broken suddenly by a high-pitched voice that had been rambling in the background for most of their debate, though it's constant chatter was only now actually registering.

"I guess this means we don't get to see Raistlin turn Tanis into a toad, huh?"

**In Raistlin's Laboratory, inside the Tower of High Sorcery...**

Raistlin and Dalamar emerged from the portal to find a blockade of just two waiting for them. Crysania and Goldmoon, both grim-faced and clutching their medallions defensively, blocking the path from the chamber. Raistlin, despite his bloodied condition and the fact that only Dalamar and the Staff of Magius were keeping him on his feet, smirked.

"Ah, the welcoming committee. Where are Tanis and my dear siblings?"

"As if you don't know." Crysania spat, her eyes flashing. "They've all bought into your lies. Caramon was the first: he started spouting nonsense about Par-Salian being untrustworthy, and convinced Half-Elven and Lady Kitiara against trying to stop you."

Raistlin lifted one eyebrow, surprised. "Really? How remarkable... perhaps my brother has grown more astute than I gave him credit for. And Tanis and Kit actually listened to him? I shall have to see about rewarding them for that - after my inevitable victory, of course."

Seeing the protest forming on the women's lips, Dalamar cut them off, also smirking. "You see, ladies, I don't think you quite understand. There is absolutely nothing you can do to stop us. We are traveling to Godshome in a few moments, there to defeat Takhisis and assume her power and mantle. The moment we have departed, the Guardians of this tower will turn on you. You will be quite unable to save your own wretched lives, much less thwart our plans."

Raistlin smiled at his lover. "I think they'll understand soon enough, _melamin_. Shall we?"

"Absolutely." Dalamar murmured, catching the other mage's lips in a kiss, even as the magic took hold of them and whisked them away to Godshome.

Crysania and Goldmoon were left standing in an empty laboratory, staring at the ominously swirling portal, which was the only source of illumination in the room. Slowly, they turned to look at each other. At that moment, a mournful wail drifted from somewhere close by: a chill began to fill the room, feelers of pure blackness creeping in around the doorframe. Both women swallowed hard.

"Well." Crysania said, her voice shaking slightly. "That didn't go according to plan at all, did it?"

...

...

_Heh heh, I'm such an evil dragon. That takes care of chapter two: next, the ultimate battle! Will Raistlin and Dalamar succeed? Or does Par-Salian have a few more tricks up his baggy white sleeve? Reviews are like roast elk: feed the dragon if you want more story!_

_A'mael en maranweamin: _My destined beloved.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: I know there's absolutely no excuse for leaving this story so long without an update: all I can say is that it started with a car accident that left me in the hospital for weeks, and it all snowballed from there. My fics have slid further and further down my list of life priorities recently, and I'm ashamed to say that I've overshot my expected due dates on quite a few updates. However, what's done is done: I hereby present my new update of awesome-Raistlin-ness, and I will do my utmost to ensure such a delay does not happen again. And I do come bearing gifts! In addition to the one-shot of Raistlin/Dalamar that I posted on here, I've also uploaded the uncensored versions of these Call Of Arcane Lore chapters on my DeviantArt account at long last. _

_Sweet-Hearted Silver Ears__: Wow, thanks so much! I have a penchant for going overboard on details sometimes: I'm borderline compulsive that way. Nice to know we're agreed on the matter of the Conclave - I hated Par-Salian with a passion ever since I first read about him. And really, when you think about it, Caramon really does love Raistlin, and Kit is just looking out for herself, and Tanis has known Raistlin for years - why would they all just suddenly turn on him? But Goldmoon was a right cow when they introduced her character, and Crysania's too holier-than-thou to listen to anyone's advice. I'm especially glad you like the flashbacks. I needed some way to show Raistlin and Dalamar's relationship without dragging the story out too long: good to know it's working!_

_JadeRose__: Yeah, I figured it was time someone had these guys - Caramon especially - __**act**__ instead of just __**react**__. I mean, Caramon did do a lot of growing up in War of the Twins: surely he wouldn't just fall back into old patterns. And for Paladine's sake, would __**someone**__ please show a little loyalty here? In the canon, Raistlin got screwed over and over and over again - and just when he was on the brink of success he got screwed yet again. I hated Time of the Twins, just because it was so dreadfully unfair. Even if they didn't really like Raistlin, he did a hell of a lot for them, they should be more grateful._

_demonic-blackbird__: So glad I could brighten the horizon for another Dalamar/Raistlin fan! I noticed that there wasn't all that much activity in that pairing, and it really seemed a shame, because they really are the most awesome pair EVER. Yeah, Wishmaster does kind of have a slashy tone, doesn't it? I think most Dragonlance fans (including Tuomas) would at least be open to the idea, though: even in the canon, there were definitely some hints in that direction. Besides, they're just so PERFECT for each other! By the way - two Raistlins? My god, you are one lucky dark elf. On another note: believe me, my friend, your rambling has nothing on my rambling. I went some forty-eight hours without sleep a couple weeks ago, and one of my reviewers on my HP fic told me my Author's Note ramblings were as entertaining as the fic itself! _

_Tintti__: Awe, thank you! Even when I don't specifically try, I always seem to end up focusing on the emotional aspect of romance fics: even the smut comes out sappy half the time. It's always good to run into another fangirl, though! (And don't worry, your English is just fine!)_

_WereBunny87: Ah, where would I be without you, my friend? If you want my advice, stick to any of the DL novels with Raistlin in them and anything by Richard Knaak: they're the cream of the crop. (And I personally can't stand most of the New Age books, but that's just me, who knows: you might like them... *shrugs* Each to their own!)_

_Chronomentrophobia__: 157? Wow! Yeah, I can definitely sympathize - my IQ landed me a government job that has now DEVOURED MY LIFE. Oh well. At least it pays good! _

_**To all concerned: my DeviantArt username is Mercuryshade999. I now have the uncensored chapters posted there, and will update that version as well when I finish the fourth chapter of this fic. **__Which will, of course, be a much quicker update than this last one. Provided I don't fall off a cliff or something. I don't think the Fates like me very much. _

_Chapter Soundtrack: Requiem for a Dream - the version from LOTR by Clint Mansell, Battlefield by Blind Guardian, and The Last Candle by Blind Guardian. (Man, I love all the bands that have written songs about Dragonlance! Blind Guardian, Nightwish, Dargaard, Dungeon, all of them!)_

**Chapter Three: His Eyes Were Cold As Ice...**

Dalamar had never felt more alive. His nerves tingled with the rush of adrenaline, his heart was pounding with a combination of fear and exhilaration, his blood singing with the surge and flow of magic. His every sense seemed sharper, clearer, on high alert: he had never felt more energized, more keenly aware of the present moment. Perhaps this, then, was where he was meant to be all along. At his beloved's side, staring into the heart of a maelstrom of destruction as they faced down a raging goddess.

They had arrived at Godshome on a tide of magic, bloody but unbowed after their battle in the Abyss. Already the ground was beginning to shudder and rumble, as though it knew what was about to happen, as though the earth itself had sensed the approach of a cataclysmic battle: the skies were dark and storm-tossed, a rising wind beginning to howl through the valley. Raistlin held Dalamar close to his side as they materialized, the air humming with energy as he smiled at his dark elf, his golden eyes still glowing with power as he murmured, "Almost there, love. Almost there."

Dalamar returned his exhilarated smile, his grey eyes shining with a mixture of magic and longing as he whispered, "Lead the way, beloved."

Where the two mages had appeared in the valley, they were cloaked from view by the shadows of the high cliffs, there black robes easily camouflaging them against the unwary eye. As they started toward the center of the valley, where the obelisks ringed the bowl of glassy black stone, there was the unmistakeable shimmer of a transport spell in the air.

Justarius, Ladonna, and Par-Salian appeared out of the ether a few hundred yards away, their materialization accompanied by a sharp crack of energy. The two Black Robes paused, exchanging cruel smiles, then slipped unseen back into the shadows.

Justarius, Par-Salian, and Ladonna materialized at Godshome with defensive spells already hovering on their lips, hands poised to cast. Fortunately for them, Godshome seemed deserted: the sky overhead roiled furiously, flashes of lightning skittering across the clouds, trailed by crashing thunder, but there was no sign of Takhisis, Raistlin, or Dalamar.

Justarius was glaring at Par-Salian. "You don't think this is going a bit too far?" he asked, voice cold and bitter. "The Gods know I despise what the dark elf did to my daughter, but you've sent Half-Elven and the others to their deaths."

"In war, sacrifices must be made." Par-Salian said, his blue eyes dark with determination.

A chilling laugh swept through the valley, accompanied by a gust of cold wind and a crash of thunder. "Such a noble sentiment, Par-Salian." came a cold, sneering voice. "How unfortunate for you that you are about to become one of those sacrifices."

Raistlin and Dalamar appeared out of the shadows at the base of the cliff, haloed by dark energy, the lightning-crackles of magic dancing on their fingertips as the other mages whirled to face them. Dalamar, smirking, couldn't resist adding his own comment to Raistlin's. "Justarius, I'm surprised to see you here - shouldn't you be in Palanthas comforting your heartbroken daughter?"

"Don't you dare talk about Jenna, dark elf scum!" Justarius snarled. Raistlin gestured almost negligently, and a blast of fiery power struck the head of the Red Robes, sending him flying backward to crash into a boulder. The black-robed mage's eyes narrowed.

"I would advise you not to insult my lover, Justarius. You are already in enough jeopardy: don't make it even worse for yourself. Behave, and I might just let you live."

"We should have known you couldn't be trusted." Ladonna spat at Dalamar. The dark elf smiled sardonically.

"Yes, actually, you should have. Why in Nuitari's name would I retain my forced loyalty to you when I could have Raistlin at my side and the world at my feet? You of all people should know what it takes to be a true Black Robe, Ladonna. Power, and ambition. Which means that I was already strong enough to betray you, and would do so in a heartbeat, given the right incentive. Raistlin offered me a _world_, and an eternity at his side - what were your paltry promises of compensation worth compared to that?"

"We _trusted_ you, Dalamar." Par-Salian said, his expression gravely disappointed. Raistlin laughed bitterly.

"Why don't you drop this masquerade of benevolence, Par-Salian? My poor gullible brother isn't present, we all know what you really are." The archmage's golden eyes drilled into the White Robe, his gaze burning with hatred. "I don't know why anyone is ever surprised to learn about your history with Ladonna, you have just as much blood on your hands as she does. You lie, and manipulate, and deceive whomever you see fit to further your own aims. Your piety is just as much an illusion as my supposed feelings for the Lady Crysania: she was a pawn, nothing more, and a tiresome one at that."

Par-Salian's gaze hardened, and his lip curled slightly. "Fine." he said coldly, his blue eyes turning to chips of ice, sharp and flinty. "Perhaps I am not as pure as my reputation claims. That does not mean my cause is not just - and it does not affect the simple truth that you must be stopped, for the sake of all Krynn!"

Dalamar glanced at the sky, seeing the storm intensifying as he said softly, "We don't have time for this, _melamin._ We need to get these fools out of the way before our guest shows up."

Raistlin smirked, watching the fear dawn across the mages' faces. "Quite right, Dalamar. Would you care to do the honors?"

Most of the Conclave had assumed that Dalamar was not very powerful, an assumption reaffirmed by the fact that the elven mage almost never used magic in front of his fellows. In fact, though, he was exceptionally strong - not as strong as Raistlin, but very powerful nonetheless. With his magical abilities boosted a hundredfold by the bond that hummed between himself and his lover, Dalamar was easily strong enough to take on the unprepared mages of the Conclave: a few sharp words and a commanding gesture, and Justarius, Par-Salian, and Ladonna found themselves pinned to the rough stone of the cliff wall, utterly immobilized. Cursing, they fought to break free - but to their mingled shock and horror, they were unable to overpower the dark elf's spell.

Raistlin turned to his lover, smiling, golden eyes bright with power and anticipation. "Perfect, love." he murmured, stealing a swift kiss before the earth shuddred again and they separated, bracing themselves in readiness.

At that very moment, the sky overhead tore open like a shredded banner, and the Dragonqueen appeared above them in all her fearsome glory. Her rainbow-hued wings nearly blotted out the heavens as she reared above them, her five heads roaring triumph to the storm-tossed skies as she looked down at the mages and bared her fangs in a challenging smile. Exchanging last glances of love and promise, Raistlin and Dalamar gathered their power and struck.

The battle that was engaged then was like nothing ever seen before on the face of Krynn. Raw magic crackled through the air, hot and wild like sunlight chained to its caster's will, searing between mages and goddess. Lightning flared and struck, blasting craters in the earth as fire seared the stone with blackened scars: wind howled around them, laden with icy fog and clouds of burning acid, thick with smoke and the smell of scorched earth. The mages held their own, their dual attacks keeping Takhisis constantly on edge and turning between the two of them, the goddess unable to focus her full wrath on one target before the other would strike.

The battle wore on for what felt like an eternity, but both mages knew it was only a matter of time. Sure enough, Takhisis finally made a mistake: she turned too slow from Dalamar toward Raistlin, and as her wings swept wide to aid the turn, for a single moment she left her entire chest defenseless.

The two bolts of pure magical energy struck her at almost the same instant, Raistlin's just a heartbeat behind, finishing what Dalamar's blow had begun.

Takhisis's chest seemed to rupture from within, and a torrent of dark energy burst from behind her scales and poured forth like a frothing river of purple-black magic. The Dragonqueen reeled back with an earth-shattering scream, her five heads tossing in agony as her wings flared stiff and wide, her very essence pouring out in a unstoppable tide. The power swirled for a moment, directionless and raging - then it surged forward and slammed like a tsunami wave into Raistlin Majere.

The gold-skinned mage staggered slightly as the power swept over him, his skin searing with the strength of it, his blood still singing with his own magic. For a moment, the world vanished: all he could see was the coruscating light of the divine magic flooding his body, rending apart old barriers and shattering his old form... remaking him into something new, and far greater.

Some barrier in his mind seemed to shatter, and his awareness expanded a thousandfold: he could feel the tremors in the earth beneath his feet, the tossing of the oceans miles away, the storms brewing across Ansalon, unleashed by the surge of divine magic. He could feel the fear that radiated from the three Heads of the Conclave, the more distant terror of the people all across Ansalon who were witnessing the beginnings of a second Cataclysm - and, much closer and stronger, the fiercely radiant love and awe of a certain dark elf. Dalamar's love seemed to glow like a candle flame in the dark maelstrom of power, and Raistlin focused on that light, keeping himself anchored through the storm.

He heard Dalamar's voice, though whether the elf had spoken aloud or their minds had simply opened to one another, Raistlin had no idea.

_We did it, love! _

_Yes. _Raistlin gathered his will into the fire-forged steel-strong force that he had mastered all those years ago, and reached out to the Dark Elf, drawing him closer and embracing him body and soul.

He felt the Dark Elf's surprise, and answered the unspoken question. _I told you I wouldn't leave you, Dalamar. They fear to see a new dark God rise: let us see how they face the reality of two!_

With a thought, Raistlin tore down the last barriers between himself and his beloved, letting the wild magic flow freely between them. Dalamar, too, mentally reeled as the tidal wave of energy crashed into him - but he withstood the storm, and exulted in the sensation of pure _power_ flooding through his veins. He exulted, too, in the final proof of Raistlin's love: so many times they had pledged themselves to each other, yet there had remained the slightest shadow of doubt in the dark elf's mind. Raistlin might believe himself in love with Dalamar, but when the time of reckoning came, Dalamar still feared that the human mage might leave him behind in favor of attaining his goals. With godhood at stake, the elf couldn't even have blamed him - but it seemed that Raistlin was just as hopelessly in love with Dalamar as Dalamar was with him. Perhaps it was true after all: whether you willed it or not, love was stronger than any other force on Krynn.

The powers of a god couldn't hurt, though.

His body thrumming with more power than any mortal had ever tasted, alive with magic and love in the heart of a storm of creation and destruction, Dalamar laughed.

**A short time ago in the Lordcity of Palanthas, near the Tower of High Sorcery...**

"Whether or not we're going to fight him, we have to go to Godshome." Tanis insisted, his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sheathed sword as he stared hard at Kitiara and Caramon. "What if Raistlin looses? Takhisis would be free in the world, with her full powers at hand and nothing to tether her in place. She could destroy us all without any true effort on her part: we have to be there to at least _try_ and slow her down if something goes wrong."

Kitiara nodded. "Fair enough - even I will admit that Raistlin's not infallible by any means, the risk is still high that he won't be strong enough to actually kill the Dark Queen. But how in the names of the gods do we get to Godshome in time?"

Tanis faltered, his mind stalling - but Caramon solved their problem when he started, his eyes brightening as he looked past Tanis.

"Fizban!"

Startled, Tanis spun around: sure enough, there was Fizban hobbling swiftly toward them, the aged mage looking almost frantic as he approached them. "No time for chitchat! You three have a plan, yes?" he said urgently, his staff thunking rapidly along the cobbled street. Kitiara grimaced.

"Such as it is. We're not going to stop Raistlin, but we need to get to Godshome: if Raistlin and Dalamar fail, someone has to be on hand to try and stop Takhisis before she destroys the world herself."

Caramon stepped forward, his brown eyes bright with hope. "Can you take us there, Fizban? Par-Salian and the other mages from the Conclave are already there, but gods know what's happened to them: we need to get there, and fast."

Fizban hesitated, grimacing as he looked up at the near-hurricane brewing fast overhead, took in the ground that shuddered and danced beneath their feet. There was a tense moment, then the old wizard shook his head. "Alright. I'll take you there." he said finally, his words short and clipped, clearly reluctant. "I can't stay, though - I wouldn't stand a chance if I met Takhisis face to face under these circumstances. You three heroes are on your own."

He paused, glancing upward. "I'll take you there," he repeated, his expression uncharacteristically grim as he looked at the lightning-riddled sky. "But I cannot promise what you will find waiting for you."

Tanis understood perfectly. Avatar of Paladine or not, Fizban didn't have the full strength of the Platinum Dragon behind him: Paladine could no more fully manifest on this plane than Takhisis could have without Raistlin's intervention. If they had to face a raging Dragonqueen still smarting from her battle with a pair of hubristic mages, then the tattered remains of the former Companions of the Lance were going to stand alone.

The half-elf nodded. "We understand."

Fizban sighed and nodded, reaching out: quickly linking hands with Kitiara and Caramon, Tanis let Fizban chant his nonsense spell and whisk them away.

**Meanwhile, at the mountain shrine of Godshome...**

The storm of magic finally subsided, and Raistlin opened his eyes.

The world around him was changed almost beyond recognition. Colours shimmered and shifted before his eyes, flat tones of brown and grey changed to shimmering jewel-bright splashes of brilliance. All the damage done by his once-cursed eyesight was reversed, and then some: the world was breathtaking in its beauty, even in the harsh stone valley of Godshome.

Fascinated, Raistlin glanced down at himself - and his eyes widened, a mixture of wonder, delight, and triumph flooding his veins as he took in his altered appearance. Muscles he had not possessed before flexed, shifting his now-massive bulk on the cold stone: a vicious smile spread across his inhuman face as he realized just what magnificent form his transformation had gifted him with. Truly, it was an appropriate symbol, given the way he had risen to power.

At his side, Dalamar was stirring as well. The former elf dragged himself back to consciousness, shaking off the lingering dizziness as he opened his eyes: he froze for a moment, blinking, then looked down at himself. A low gasp escaped him before he looked back up, seeking out Raistlin's gaze, his silvery-grey eyes beginning to glow as he whispered, "Raistlin! We did it! We actually did it!"

Raistlin smiled and leaned forward, brushing the sleek coils of his new form along his lover's side as he breathed, "Yes we did, beloved. Together."

**A short time later...**

When Tanis and the others arrived at Godshome, courtesy of an increasingly edgy Fizban who had disappeared the moment they touched the ground, they found an eerie silence. From the chaos that ravaged the land around, they had expected to find a fierce conflict raging: instead, the holy place was perfectly, unnaturally silent and still. The high cliffs around them bore the marks of battle, though - the rock was scorched black and gouged as if by mighty claws, crumbled earth and jagged chunks of rock littering the once-smooth ground. A thick band of rubble was piled at the base of the cliffs, surrounding the valley like a rough-hewn iron chain, the heaped stone and earth casting strange shadows across the ravaged earth. The pillars which surrounded the smooth bowl of glassy rock in the valley's center, likewise, were marred by blackened scorch marks: a few of the obelisks even lay on their sides, or bore vicious cracks down their length. The silence in the valley seemed oppressive, the air thick and heavy with the smell of ozone and char. The sky overhead was dark and obscured, the clouds swirling sluggishly like a thick layer of smoke stirred by the fire's winds. After a long, wary moment, Tanis spoke.

"I don't understand." His voice, though low, seemed far too loud in the deadly quiet: swallowing hard, he dropped his voice still further, almost whispering. "Shouldn't there be some kind battle going on here? I mean... where is everyone?"

"Tanis." Kitiara's whisper carried a note of horrified awe. The two men turned to face her immediately, dread spiking through them: the blue-armored woman was crouched down, her gauntleted hand reaching out to pick up something from the scorched earth. Slowly, she rose to her feet and straightened: staring down at the object she held, she swallowed hard before she held out her hand palm-up, displaying it for her brother and ex-lover to see.

It was a fragment of a dragon's scale, thick and shimmering, blue at the center with radiating streaks of black. A faint dark glow lingered on it: the edges were jagged, and the thickest part of the scales was stained with thick red-black blood, as though it had been torn from the body of its bearer. They all stared at it for a moment, the questions in their minds too fearful to voice - then, finally, Kitiara spoke, her voice little more than a hushed breath.

"I think the battle's already over. I think the Dark Queen lost."

At that moment, one of the most chilling sounds the Companions had ever heard rolled through the valley. Laughter: cold as winter's breath, sharp as the blade of a silver knife. A grating rumble shook the ground, and a voice spoke from nowhere, echoing directly into their minds - and despite the power and certainty contained in those syllables, there was no mistaking the drawling, sarcastic tone or the soft, rasping voice itself.

_**Well done, dear sister. A pity for you, that you didn't take my offer - you would have made a fine Regent.**_

With a sound like a mountain shifting, movement stirred all around them. Tanis's sword seemed to leap to his hand, but as his heart clawed its way into his throat he knew it was already too late: the cliffs seemed to sway and bend, and dread hit the half-elf like a physical blow as he realized why.

The rounded heaps of rubble that lined the bases of all the cliffs were shifting, stirring like some primordial beast awakened from slumber - and as the dust and shattered rock slid aside in crashing waterfalls, the reason was only too clear. A sleek, glistening black body writhed free of its place of concealment, scales gleaming like liquid night in the dim grey lighting: it was a serpent, easily over six hundred feet long, its muscular coils bigger around than the bodies of most dragons. The serpent's head, its jaws alone large enough to engulf a full-grown warhorse, rose from the shadows at the mouth of the valley. The head was horned and ridged, the gaping maw lined with razor fangs and a long forked tongue like something out of a nightmare, or the darkest depths of the Abyss - but there was no doubt as to the creature's identity, not after one look at those burning, molten-gold, hourglass eyes.

Tanis, Kitiara, and Caramon instinctively fell back, hands seeking weapons by instinct as they gaped as the spectacle before them, a flare of power overwhelming their senses and almost driving them to their knees. The serpent that had once been Raistlin Majere reared high over them, his jaws splitting in a blood-curdling smile as he gazed down at the humans. His voice was a low, mocking hiss.

_**So, the proud heroes return. Brother, sister... Tanis. I hate to shatter your illusions, but you've come too late - Takhisis is dead and gone. **_

Caramon opened his mouth to explain that they hadn't come to stop Raistlin, only to protect Krynn from Takhisis and to see the truth with their own eyes, but Tanis beat him to it. The half-elf's voice was hard, but there was a sharp edge of fear under the harshness. "I don't see Dalamar. Did you turn on him in the end after all?"

A sound rose from behind them, a strangely breathy vibrating sound like a hiss and a snarl rolled into one. They spun around - and came face-to-face with something none of them had ever thought to see.

A creature almost as big as a dragon had slunk from the shadows of the mountain pass behind them, its silvery eyes blazing as it prowled free of the shadows. The blunt-nosed frilled head of a massive serpent swayed on a long, graceful onyx-scaled neck, sharp fangs bared and a forked tongue flickering at the air. A powerful body followed, catlike form sleek and muscular under a coat of smoke-grey and black-splotched fur. Leathery wings unfolded against the storm-ridden sky, slender stays and almost translucent membranes stirring lazily in the air. A long tail lashed languidly behind the creature as it advanced on the stunned humans, mercury eyes glowing too bright as a familiar lilting voice slithered from between gleaming fangs.

_**So little faith, Half-Elven. **_The air around them crackled, thick with energy from the presence of two gods as the massive Glatisant drew closer, cloven hooves eerily light and sure on the ravaged ground. _**As if we would have come so far, only to turn on each other now. **_

Tanis bit back his instinctive retort and swallowed hard, heart thumping in his chest as the knowledge sank in that he was facing a _god_. Raistlin's laugher sounded behind them, low and silky and chilling. _**So, tell me, brother - why are you here? Crysania would have had me believe that you suffered a change of heart...**_

Caramon drew a steady breath, not flinching as Dalamar's burning gaze flashed to him, and he answered Raistlin without turning. "I realized that there were some things that didn't make sense, and that when it came down to it, I trusted you a hell of a lot more than I did Par-Salian. I haven't forgotten the Test - he says he acts for the greater good, but he's not - not a god. He doesn't always know what's right."

_**Excellent,**_ Raistlin breathed, his tone thrumming with triumph. _**And you, sister?**_

"We had an arrangement, Raistlin." Kitiara said, keeping her gaze straight ahead. "I learned my lesson last time - I'm not stupid enough to double-cross you twice."

_**Indeed. And of course, Tanis, we know why you are here - to put your conscience at rest if Caramon was right, and make a valiant last stand if he was wrong. Consider yourself fortunate that we were victorious - the Queen would not have been so lenient.**_

Raistlin dove forward suddenly, in a surge of rippling movement, slithering around the valley so that he was facing the humans at Dalamar's side. He was far longer than the Glatisant, though Dalamar's body was slightly bigger around and looked larger with his wings spread. The new King of the Abyss regarded them for a moment, tongue flickering, then he smiled darkly.

_**Very well. Go, return to your homes: Dalamar and I have business with the Pantheon of Darkness, but rest assured, we will meet again. **_

As both gods prepared to depart, a sudden thought struck Tanis, and he called out, "What happened to Par-Salian and the other mages?"

Dalamar's smile was just as chilling as Raistlin's. _**Do not concern yourselves with them. They have been... dealt with. They will not make the mistake of defying us again. **_

Before any of the three could ask anything further, there was a sudden blast of wind that stirred the dust to a swirling maelstrom and a sound like a thunderclap. When the wind died and they opened their eyes, blinking, both new gods had vanished.

**In the Abyss, at the dark reflection of Neraka...**

The Dark Pantheon were ranged about the scrying pool, their vaguely humanoid figures stock-still and stricken silent. When they gathered like this in council, they always used their human forms, if only to facilitate communication - at the moment, though, many of them were wishing they had taken their more fearsome creature forms, if only to make themselves feel a little less vulnerable.

Chemosh broke the silence in the end, his eyes wide with disbelief and his voice sounding slightly shaken. "I don't believe it. He did it. He finally took her down."

"Believe it." Sargonnas rasped, the bovine face of his favored form - that of a hulking minotaur - wearing a look of incredible grimness. "We had better prepare ourselves: those two will not be contented with Takhisis's raw power, they will undoubtedly try to seize her throne as well."

Zeboim looked up from the pool, her heavy-lidded eyes flashing in anger. "They do, and I'll shred them!" she spat, her fingers curling into claws. "I may have hated Takhisis's guts, but I won't stand for some young upstart giving me orders!"

"You have no choice, Zeboim."

Raistlin appeared in a swirl of shadowy power, his golden eyes burning and his black robes rippling in an ethereal breeze. Dalamar materialized at his side, silver eyes gleaming as he stood confidently at his lover's side. The Dark Pantheon stiffened as their two newest members approached, and Sargonnas stepped forward, a snarl forming on his lips.

"Back off, _mages_." he spat, his red eyes flashing in scorn. "You may have gotten lucky against Takhisis, but you can't take us all down."

"Can I not?" Raistlin asked softly, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. His gaze swept over the gathered gods, and his eyes hardened. His tone was low and silky with threat. "I am the Master of the Past and Present, and now a god as well. Cross me, and I will not hesitate to destroy you. However, unlike Takhisis, I can be merciful: if you acknowledge my rule and do not interfere with my plans, I will allow you to retain your former posts uncontested."

Before the words had even finished echoing in the air Chemosh was stepping forward and sinking into a low bow, his voice soft and smooth. "Ambitious I may be, but a fool I am not." He looked up, eyes glittering as he looked from Raistlin to Dalamar. "Consider me your loyal subject."

Raistlin and Dalamar both smirked: Sargonnas glared furiously at the God of Death. "Traitor." the minotaur spat. Chemosh merely shrugged.

Hiddukel stepped forward then, his trademark oily smile in place as he made a shallow bow. "I shall not oppose you, your Majesty. But tell me this: what place do you intend for your ally?"

Raistlin smiled darkly, wrapping an arm around Dalamar's waist as he said coolly, "Dalamar will be my Consort, of course - my equal in all things, and thus above you all as well. Anyone who protests that is welcome to match us in battle."

Dalamar smirked, lifting his head with no small amount of pride as he drawled, "Consider, too, that if you seek to turn us against each other, your efforts shall be in vain. We have faced too many challenges already to be parted now."

Slowly, one by one, the other gods bowed. They did it with stiff backs and blazing eyes, glowering looks and wounded pride - but bow they did, for they knew when they were defeated. Raistlin and Dalamar were powerful on their own, but together they made something that the Dark Pantheon had never faced before: a true partnership. Though Sargonnas had long been the Dragonqueen's Consort, their relationship had been one of lies and ambition and broken trust - Takhisis had never trusted her lover, never let down her watch against an axe aimed for her back. Raistlin and Dalamar, though, trusted each other completely: they could not be manipulated against each other, and in a battle their wrath would be focused completely on their foes, not divided between fighting their opponents and keeping an eye on each other. Older than the stars and wise enough to know when the odds were overwhelming, however reluctant they might be, the gods of Evil bowed to their new sovereign.

His arm tight around his lover's waist, watching the Dark Pantheon bow before him, Raistlin smiled.

...

...

_Again, a thousand apologies for the delay in posting this. I'm planning on one more chapter, and possibly a short epilogue. Once more, the uncensored version is now posted on DeviantArt, under the name Mercuryshade999. _


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